The Last Portrait

On one of my visits back to the village, I noticed one house felt quieter than I remembered. I pointed down the path and asked about the elderly lady who lived there.

The family looked unsure, so I opened a portrait of her on my phone.

The mother slowly shook her head. I couldn’t understand at first, until her daughter’s mime made it very clear.

She had passed away.

When I originally visited the village, Txooj Lauj was one of the first people to welcome me. Every time I returned, she greeted me with the same warm smile.

I often say that giving photographs back means the most to the elderly. It’s a chance for them to leave behind a small reminder that they were here.

Now, her portrait hangs in the family’s home.

Whenever I see it, I don’t think of it as the last photograph I took of her. I think of it as one she’ll always be remembered by.